Thank you, my sweet

image

This time around
My beauty has been recognized.
Thank you, my sweet
For the lovely, amorous words of delight.
This time around
My beauty has become way too much
For a burdened, sad being
Who feels he deserves nothing.
My light shines too bright
For a cold and dark forest.
He asks me to hide him my light.
It just is to painful
To be scorched by the sun.
I tell him, ‘thank you, my sweet, I’ll get out of your way.’
To know I am beauty
And yet to contain it,
A pleasure mixed with pain
Is this truth revealing.

Dedicated to my sweet

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Sweet dream

I remember most of my nightmares, rarely do i remember my good dreams. i had a sweet dream of love and now it’s going, going, gone, and because it was sweet i woke up and now it’s losing its power, the memory of it is fading away.  i have a glimpse now of true love, love that lets love go, love that does not attach, love that is aware of true beingness. thank you, sweet love.

Change

As I am walking home today I have the thought to stand on the bridge for a while and look at the river. It’s brown from the rain and not very appealing to the eye. As I look though I hear this mantra running through my head “leave everything you know behind” ( a line from David Whyte’s TILICHO LAKE). So I look again at the water, and this time leaving everything I know behind, i see the patterns in the water. They remind me of my skin and then i leave that behind. I bend my head so now it sees everything at an angle, it all looks like a painting, a live painting. I see the bank of the river, a patch of blue sky, beautiful white clouds, beautiful grey clouds, i see the trees on the river bank, i notice the little green spots on the branches. Then, behind the trees, the brown buildings, and then the hills behind them. and they’re all equal for a moment, frozen like a still picture. Of course, then another thought appears and it says “i never liked those brown buildings”. and i ask myself why. Why do I like the brown river more, or the blue sky more, or the cloudy sky more? And I see it’s because they are always changing. How beautiful change is. And then I realize that buildings change, just at a slower rate. And I think at how hard I have tried to stop change in my life. Why do i want to be more like the brown buildings than like the sky? I start walking again towards my home, and as life would have it, when I am about 5 minutes from home, it starts raining. And now I remember. It is this unpredictability that I don’t like. I am not dressed up for rain. What does change mean? I will get wet, I will have to change my clothes when I get home. For real? I start running and laughing at the same time. I am home in no time. It was not torrential rain. It was warm rain. It felt good to have it touch my cheeks and my hair. Change is not so bad after all. I love my changing mind. Until tomorrow.Image

 

The photo was taken from my husband’s blog

http://talainsphotographyblog.wordpress.com/

John 3:8

“The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear the sound of it, but cannot tell where it comes from and where it goes. So is everyone who is born of spirit.” Jesus

The born of spirit blows where it wishes, and you hear the sound of it, but cannot tell where it comes from and where it goes.

This is one of my favorite bible verses, in part because it speaks to a deeper me, in part because I can’t totally understand it, which makes me want to come back to it over and over again, see if I can get some new insight out of it. Today I was reading through the book of John, and I was reading only Jesus’ words and new meaning was given to me, mathematical in form. Let’s see if I can put it into words.

graph_arcsinThis first graph shows the way most people see life, as a continuous line, with a beginning and an end. The physical life can be seen this way, with the line forming our identity, based on our past and looking towards a future.

function-graph This second graph shows life as being made of dots, each representing the present moment, each present moment a new life, a life created over and over in the moment, in a way being born again and again and again. Of course, the dots would be closer to each other than in my graph, giving the illusion of a continuous life.  Now, maybe if we didn’t attach to the past dots or the future dots we could see life lived in the present moment as the eternal, never dying, but only being created and recreated infinitely.

The born of spirit blows where it wishes, and you hear the sound of it, but cannot tell where it comes from (past) and where it goes (future).

 

 

 

 

 

Ode to Dan Allender or to myself

Stained glass at St John the Baptist's Anglica...

Stained glass at St John the Baptist’s Anglican Church http://www.stjohnsashfield.org.au, Ashfield, New South Wales. Illustrates Jesus’ description of himself “I am the Good Shepherd” (from the Gospel of John, chapter 10, verse 11). This version of the image shows the detail of his face. The memorial window is also captioned: “To the Glory of God and in Loving Memory of William Wright. Died 6th November, 1932. Aged 70 Yrs.” (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I grew up in a household that encouraged being nice and in church on Sunday mornings, and fighting the rest of the week (or so I thought).
I loved to hear the New Testament stories. I loved to hear about Jesus the rebel, the healer, the preacher, the God.
I made sure I had someone to worship at all times, and I was always looking for some Jesus to save me.
My dad once took me to a conference to see a great poet of Romania, Nichita Stanescu, and I got his autograph, yet he didn’t save me.
I craved knowing famous people, hoping one of them would be Jesus, hoping one of them would save me.
Most priests I have known in my life became my idols immediately, most authors on self-help books became my object of worship. Dan Allender was one of them. He wrote a book called “The wounded heart”. Someone in my church asked me to read it. I liked it. Couple years later I dared to fly to Arizona to go attend a conference on sexual abuse. Dan Allender was the speaker. I came out of the conference disappointed, I hadn’t been saved. Dan Allender was just a man. I did sign up for Mars Hill Graduate school’s (now The Seattle School) e-mail list though and one day it had a link to the blog of one of their alumni, Kayce Hughlett. Kayce had a list of books that she had read that year, and I decided to read some of them, just based on how the titles resonated with me (e.g Loving what is, Leaving the saints, I need your love, is that true?, A new earth).
I’ve been reading some of these books for more than a year now, and I noticed my mind expanding its limits. I had a problem with the church’s belief that the bible is the only inspired word of God, so it was somewhat easy for me to see these books as inspired by God. Paul writes in 2 Corinthians to demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and to take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ, but he doesn’t tell you how to do it. Byron Katie does in her book “Loving what is”.
Jesus would heal people sometimes by touching them. Now I learned to heal myself by doing Reiki to myself.
I dare to be an apostate. I dare to read books I would’ve considered false teachings just a few years ago. I dare not to go to church on Sunday mornings.
I dare to save myself. I dare to free my own mind of pain.
I even dare to say that Jesus, Dan Allender, and I are one and the same. Did Jesus save me? Sure. Did Dan Allender save me? Of course he did. Did I save me? You bet I did. I am my own savior.

“Power is given only to those who dare to lower themselves and pick it up. Only one thing matters, one thing, to be able to dare.” F. Dostoyevsky